Though they bear different names and a few different members, Death Strike and Master are largely the same, with the former serving mostly as a brief mid-1980s departure from the latter for Master-mind Paul Speckmann, whose distinctive Chicago-style death/thrash approach defines both Master’s lengthy run and this, Death Strike’s sole full-length. In its earliest incarnation, Death Strike was comprised of Speckmann and different players than those of the Master line-up at the time — by Speckmann’s own admission, that line-up was mostly just him and drummer Bill Schmidt, whose defection to Chicago’s Mayhem prompted Speckmann’s formation of Death Strike — but after Death Strike’s demo garnered some success, Schmidt returned and Death Strike guitarist Chris Mittelbrun also joined Master. All of that line-up shifting is fairly linear, but song-sharing and a delayed release schedule further cross the streams: Both bands released debut demos in 1985, and both waited until the next decade to release a full-length. Three of the four tracks recorded for Death Strike‘s demo show up on Master’s official debut record, recorded later but yet released a year prior to the versions on Fuckin’ Death – and two of those same tunes turned up earlier / later on Master‘s previously recorded and subsequently rejected Combat Records album, which finally saw the light of day in 2003, as the literally titled Unreleased 1985 Album.
So, the two bands’ histories are inseparable, at times indistinguishable, and their styles and sounds are equally intertwined. But history lessons be damned: What is undeniable is that the fire and the flesh-shredding fury of the two are also comparable, and when you’re talking about Master, a band whose prospective debut was reportedly denied by a thrash-metal label for being too aggressive, and a band whose envelope-pushing extremity helped create an entire genre, a band whose influence has been acknowledged by giants like Death and Napalm Death … well, that fury and fire is more than enough.
Fuckin’ Death opens with one of those later-repeated Speckmann tracks, the classic “The Truth,” in this version not quite as violent as the recording that turns up on Master’s self-titled effort, but in a way, better for its slightly less ferocious attack. There’s malice here, an edge in the lessened drive that really works for this track. The opening lines decrying conformism are vintage Paul Speckmann – “Mannequins, mannequins, they’re all the same / plastic faces, plastic faces, society’s to blame” – and here they’re delivered with imperfect but impassioned vitriol, and as such, their imperfections become…well… perfect. As a whole, Fuckin’ Death isn’t tight, isn’t pristine, but it’s not supposed to be – its rawness complements its proto-death style perfectly. This type of thrashing metal isn’t made to be squeaky clean, of course, and the band’s limited recording and playing abilities actually help matters. Put differently, the record sounds as raw as it feels, and that’s exactly how it should be.
After “The Truth” come further classics like “Pay To Die” and “Mangled Dehumanization,” both of which turn up elsewhere in Speckmann’s catalog, each performed here with passionate anger and each undeniably first-class early death metal gems. In my recent conversation with Paul (found in the Features section of this site – look it up), he mentioned that the latter half of Fuckin’ Death was written and recorded in a rush, and to some extent, it shows. “The Final Countdown,” “Pervert,” “Remorseless Poison”… All are solid tracks, but none save the surprisingly (somewhat) patriotic “Man Killed America” are truly memorable, and that one largely only because it lifts “America The Beautiful” for its riffage. So, yeah, maybe Fuckin’ Death wanders off its path a bit in the second half, but fear not: When the first half is damn near perfect, some drifting towards the end is both inevitable and excusable, and even then, it still kicks some serious ass.
For this reissue, in addition to new liner notes and photos and a much-touted color correction to the album art (remedying an overly yellow original version), the nice fellows at Dark Descent have added four rehearsal demos – including, to confuse my first paragraph matters further, the song “Master.” These rehearsal tapes are exactly that: rehearsals. For dedicated fans like me, they’re interesting and certainly worth a listen, if only to show the band in a state of genesis, but like all such tracks, they’re not essential, only a glimpse into the formative stages of a great band or, herein, a pair of great bands.
Bonus tracks or not, what’s most important is this: After all these years out of print, Dark Descent kindly sees fit to head off the eBay price-jackers and blog-uploaders at the pass, bringing Fuckin’ Death back to life, putting it potentially back in your hands in a physical form at a decent price. And you’re wondering why I don’t shut the hell up and answer one question: Should you buy it? If you’re remotely interested in furious first-rate old-school death/thrash and/or interested in the evolution of extreme metal, then the answer is unequivocably, yes, absolutely. (And while I’m pushing: You should buy Master’s first two records and the unreleased 1985 record, too.) Death Strike was a brief moment in time (or more accurately, two of them, six years apart), eclipsed and absorbed and enveloped by its older and better-known brother, but nevertheless, Fuckin’ Death brings the same attitude that its title suggests, and damned if it doesn’t rip like all holy hell, even two decades past. Fuckin’ Death: fuckin’ killer.
